


The Forgetting Curve

by teapods



Series: Soulmate AU [2]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Romance, Sequel, Sex, Soulmates, Wholesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:42:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26919037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teapods/pseuds/teapods
Summary: Steven never imagined how he'd be forgotten.But Connie isn't ready to let him go.(Sequel to The Lighthouse)
Relationships: Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe
Series: Soulmate AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1828678
Comments: 11
Kudos: 28





	The Forgetting Curve

**Author's Note:**

> tw: suicide attempt/suicidal thoughts  
> minor character death
> 
> HUGE thanks to Star and Kay for beta-ing for me and helping me with ideas! you two are awesome!

"Are you sure you want to do this? Don't you have a soulmate?"

"Oh trust me, I don't have one of those." 

"Good. Me neither." 

She grabbed him by the hand and pulled him inside, a look of excitement on her face. The door closed and locked and she turned to look at him, her eyes bright. The room was small and cozy, a small bed tucked into its corner, clothes strewn about the floor and empty mugs left deserted on countertops- typical of a college student. 

The sun had long set, leaving the pair drenched in a comfortable darkness, the tension building between them by the second. They were nothing more than acquaintances, brought together by illegally consumed alcohol and self-loathing. 

Steven Universe didn't have a soulmate- what did he have to lose? 

Without warning, she jumped, crashing her lips into his own, fingers not hesitating to tangle themselves in his unruly hair. Steven stumbled back a step, a laugh bubbling in his broad chest, his head still fuzzy from intoxication. She laughed along with him, enjoying the thrill of the moment and the feel of his mouth. 

Deep down, an inkling of shame pricked at him, screaming a silent scream at him to stop. This wasn't like him- not at all. Steven cared about people. More than anything in the world, he cared about being a decent person and being decent to others. So something about getting drunk and stumbling back into a girl's dorm room to sleep with her felt... wrong. 

It wasn't like he was taking advantage of her- he'd made sure of that multiple times. It was clear they both wanted this. This wasn't something Steven usually did- casual sex was not something he ever imagined for himself. He wanted love; he wanted a life with someone. 

Which, for him, just wasn't possible. 

Although it varies, eighteen is the default year for everyone to begin to have their soulmate dreams. However, he woke up on his first day as an adult from a dreamless sleep. While discouraged, he held out hope. The same thing happened on his nineteenth. 

By his twentieth, he didn't care anymore. 

Which is how he found himself smoking a blunt with a group of people he barely considered friends, downing almost a full twelve-pack of beer, and backing into the room of a girl he barely knew, drunk out of his mind. 

Giddy, his arms wrapped around her slim waist, clutching the black fabric of her shirt. She parted her lips and ran the tip of her tongue across Steven's bottom lip, her lips curling into a smirk. He leaned into the kiss, his head spinning, not knowing if he was drunk off of her or the alcohol. 

Oh God, this felt wrong. But it was so addicting- Steven was losing himself in the thrill of it all, his heart hammering rhythmically as his reasoning became blurred, any resolve he previously had disappearing into a haze of hormones and wanting. 

His thoughts were interrupted as she pulled away and locked her lips onto his neck, working her way down as her kisses became wet and less controlled. Her hands fumbled at the hem of his shirt, his jacket already long gone. Hurriedly, she pulled it off of him, her face slack with admiration at the muscles of his large body. 

Both a mess of panting and frantic touching, their lips crashed together once again, desperate for contact. She collapsed backwards onto the bed, wrapping her legs around his waist and running her hands all over the bare skin of his back. Steven shivered. 

He crawled on top of her, a large and calloused hand slipping under her shirt, revelling in the feel of her olive skin. Her breathing grew heavier as he moved his mouth to her collarbone, causing her to shudder with pleasure. A moan escaped her, Steven smiling as he worked his way back up, finding a spot she seemed to like on her neck. 

It wasn't long before every item of clothing was thrown haphazardly onto the floor, a careless display of their frantic endeavours. He didn't bother feeling self-conscious and neither did she, the both of them too completely lost in the feel of each other, their thoughts dimming into a mess of limbs and sounds. 

The time they spent wasn't meaningful in any way. It was a poorly thought-out decision that lead to more than Steven bargained for. Obviously, he knew what he was getting himself into- it wasn't the first time he'd done this. But, every time, without fail, he wakes up the next day with humiliation in his gut and a lump in his throat. 

Unfortunately for him, the rush was too addicting, and he often found himself forgetting the awful feeling of driving home hungover with the same clothes as the night before. 

He wished there was another way to overcome his pain, but any orthodox methods caused his stomach to twist unforgivingly. So, he stuck to weed, alcohol, and meaningless sex. It was just that little more temporary fun, right? 

They were together for most of the night, finally falling asleep at an ungodly hour of the morning. 

Steven's eyes fluttered open, his body suddenly not feeling like his own. His? No, that wasn't right... 

He looked up, his heart stuttering at the sight before him. He was looking through the eyes of a young dark-skinned girl- her long, silky hair being brushed by an older woman of a similar complexion while she gazed at herself in the mirror. 

"Excited, Connie? It's been a while since we've seen your grandparents. I'm sure they'll be very happy to see you." The older woman spoke, her voice stern with authority yet gentle with love. 

Connie nodded her head. 

Panic overtook Steven. He couldn't watch. He knew immediately what this was- it felt wrong, more wrong than anything he had ever felt, especially considering what he had just done. 

His entire life, he waited for this day. The day he'd find his soulmate, and he wouldn't be so lonely anymore. But now... he felt sick to his stomach. 

Despite everything, Steven couldn't tear his eyes away. Something about this girl kept him entranced. Now, looking through the eyes of her younger self, something unrecognisable sparked within him, something foreign and unknown. 

Then, Connie smiled, and an all too familiar shameful sensation rushed back to him. 

No, no, he couldn't do this. This wasn't fair- it wasn't! Two years of his life were spent wasted because he was so sure he didn't have a soulmate, because he was so sure he was going to die alone- because, in the end, everyone does, don't they? His mother certainly did. And now, after suppressing his pain with meaningless one-night-stands and unholy amounts of booze and weed, he finds out he has a soulmate? 

Someone so happy, so sweet, so... normal. 

The brush kept raking through her hair, and Steven knew he had to wake up. Immediately. This was wrong- he didn't deserve a soulmate, and this girl didn't deserve to have her life ruined by someone as fucked up as him. 

Right now, a girl he had spent the night with was sleeping beside him while he dreamed of his promised. He felt disgusting. 

So, he woke up. 

Light streamed in through the gaps in the blinds, beating down on his eyes like a relentless wake up call. Groaning, he grimaced, his eyes slowly opening. His ears rang obnoxiously, his temple constricting painfully. It was as if someone was beating his head with a hammer- a small part of him was convinced he was dying it hurt so bad. 

Slowly, he sat up, quickly realising his state of undress. A strike of panic surged through him, his heart skipping a beat. He glanced down, seeing the still sleeping form of last night's conquest. Sighing, he buried his face into his hands, holding back tears. 

Steven hated this. 

Fingers trembling, he leaned over, brushing her black hair from her face and pulling the sheets up to her neck, a hasty attempt to make sure she wasn't uncomfortable or cold. His eyes lingered, studying her sleeping face for nothing more than a moment. He exhaled through his nose, slinking out of bed as discreetly as he could. 

It didn't take long to find his clothes and hurriedly pull them back on, checking his phone, wallet and keys were still in his pockets. Steven looked around for his jacket, becoming increasingly frustrated when he couldn't find it. 

A part of him didn't want to leave like this. At the very least, he considered leaving a note- maybe some coffee? Would that be weird? 

Fortunately for him, it wasn't long until he found his jacket and his shoes. Ragged breathing slowed down as he crept over to the door silently, reaching for the handle- he was almost free! 

"Where are you going?" 

He jumped, a squeak of surprise escaping him. 

Accepting he'd been caught, he slowly turned, eyes lowered with embarrassment. Steven could see her in the corner of his eye, olive skin glowing golden in the morning sun, looking messy yet still beautiful. 

"I'm sorry, I don't... I don't usually do this." He spoke, swallowing. His brain seemed to slow down, suddenly finding it impossible to form words. 

"What, have sex? I gathered as much." The girl snickered, a smile blossoming on her face. "Come back to bed! We barely got to talk yesterday and, um... I like you. A lot." 

Steven felt conflicted for a moment, a jittery feeling rooting itself in the pit of his stomach. Honestly? It was tempting. 

But the laugh of a young dark-skinned girl kept echoing in his mind. 

The door was right behind him. If he could just... 

"I really think I should go." He breathed. The girl's face fell slightly. 

"Steven, please- you're like one of the sweetest guys ever! You wouldn't leave a girl the morning after, would you?" 

Once again, Steven felt himself looking down at his shoes in shame. 

"I'm sorry. You're great, but... I was drunk and if I was in my right mind I wouldn't have done this." His voice shook. "You really are a great person, but..." He trailed off, not wanting to look up and see the hateful look on her face. 

"Fine, whatever." She spat. "Throw me a ciggie on your way out then." 

Steven felt hurt, but he deserved it. He hurt her too. He walked out her dorm with tears in his eyes. 

She watched as he closed the door behind him, clenching her cigarette between her fingers. She reached over to her nightstand to grab her lighter, but froze. 

One of her mugs was there, hot steam dancing above freshly brewed coffee. A note sat beside it, decorated with messy handwriting. 

"To help with your hangover..." She read, her heart melting at the tiny smiley face under it. Eyes softening, she sighed, silently wishing she had fought just a little harder to get him to stay. 

Self-hatred was nothing new to Steven Universe. Especially while driving home, the early morning sun in his eyes, a pounding at his temples, and an irrefutable ache in his heart. For the first time, he found himself driving in silence. 

Music couldn't distract him from the name ringing in his ears. 

Connie. Connie, Connie, Connie. 

A pretty name for a pretty person. 

He saw her reflection and he felt something he had never felt before. Honestly, it terrified him. Steven had slept with a multitude of guys and girls, but never had he felt anything for any of them. He hated to admit it, but they weren't much more than a temporary distraction until he sobered up again. Then, he didn't think twice about them. 

But now... oh, he felt disgusting. Dirty. He wasn't a stranger to regret, but it had never been this consuming before. 

Steven looked at Connie and he saw a person. Not a distraction, not a 'good time', not a mistake he'll regret in the morning. He saw someone with substance, someone worth giving a chance to. 

Deep down, he also saw someone he was bound to hurt. It was his signature move, wasn't it? 

Another sigh escaped him, his breath warm in the cold of the car. The road in front of him stretched far, not a single car in sight as the sun continued to rise. Something about it was strangely peaceful. Nothing was there; nothing but the rumble of the engine and the feel of the tires on the tarmac.

It reminded him of his peaceful days on the beach as a kid. How the gentle waves would lap the shore, fishing boats strung across the horizon like bunting. 

Nothing was there. Nothing was stopping him. Nothing existed outside of that long, seemingly infinite road. 

No pain, no worry, no responsibility. His dead mother didn't matter. His missing finger didn't matter. His poorly made decisions didn't matter. Any thoughts of his family back home became null. 

Steven didn't matter. 

It wasn't as if he'd never had intrusive thoughts before- everyone has. Hot stove? Touch it. High ledge? Jump. Sharp object? Poke it. However, he'd obviously never given in to these thoughts as resolve would take over and he'd realise he's being stupid. 

He stared harder at the road in front of him. Empty. He searched hard for that familiar resolve in his mind, anything to get him to stop. Empty. 

His foot pushed a little harder. 

His car went a little faster. 

Intrusive thoughts were no longer just intrusive; they were compulsory. Somehow, Steven didn't care anymore. He knew what he was doing was wrong but it felt... right. He glanced at his left hand that was gripping the steering wheel, nose wrinkling at the sight of his missing ring finger. 

Seventy. Eighty. Eighty-five. Ninety. 

The scenery beside him became nothing but a blur as his car approached maximum speed, and for reasons he couldn't even begin to explain, he felt something familiar. Something of beaches and bubblegum and ukuleles. Something akin to what he felt on the beach in front of his home all those years ago. 

Reaching down, he unbuckled his seatbelt. Then, slowly, his hands let go of the steering wheel. 

This time, there was no sea, no golden sunsets and no pretty fishing boats. But there was something- the same feeling he so desperately longed for for years. 

Finally... peace. 

That's when something snapped. A gentle laugh. Lovely dark skin and mesmerising warm eyes. Something worth fighting for- something worth living for. 

Connie! 

Steven suddenly gasped, hands flying up to grip the steering wheel with white knuckles, foot slamming into the breaks, the car skidding to a violent halt as his hand shot down to squeeze the clutch. The tires screeched, tears clinging to his eyes as he silently prayed his car didn't flip. The car stopped. However, instead of relief, Steven was left with a strange emptiness in his heart. 

Later, he frowned as his wheels hit sand and he pulled up into his drive-way. Steven lived alone, but his guardians tended to come and go as they pleased. He took comfort in the fact it was so early- there was no way they'd show up at 6:30am. 

Unfortunately for him, a familiar shape sat slouched on his couch as he walked into his beach house. He sighed. 

"Didn't I change my locks?" He said, rubbing his eye with the palm of his hand.

"I'm crafty." Amethyst scowled. "Where have you been?" 

"Out." Steven snapped. He didn't appreciate the third-degree, especially while fighting a nasty hangover. He was an adult, and he found people's doting extremely irritating. 

"Last I checked you didn't wake up before 10am." He turned around, closing the glass door behind him. 

"I called your phone a bunch of times after you stormed out yesterday. Excuse me for being worried when you don't pick up, then just don't show up for your own mother's anniversary. Greg needed you, Steven." 

"I was busy, okay? I just needed a break." 

Amethyst scoffed. "Party hard?" 

"Party hardly..." He muttered, his voice barely audible. 

There was a moment of silence, a calm fury that brewed between the two. Steven looked down, desperate to avoid eye contact. 

"What is wrong with you?" She whispered. 

"There's nothing-" He sighed. "I've got the night shift tonight and I need to sleep. Feel free to show yourself out." 

"So who'd you sleep with this time?" Amethyst ignored him. "Another poor, unsuspecting girl you met with your stoner friends who you ditched the morning after? Or was it some unlucky dude you met at the gym?" 

Steven grimaced, feeling an unusual anger bubbling inside him like a cauldron of boiling temper. 

"For once." He breathed. "If you could just take a break from your little joyful indifference routine, that'd be spectacular. I'm sick of you waltzing in here and talking to me like you're so much more mature than everyone- you're not exactly perfect yourself, you know." 

"Do you think I want to spend my time shitting on your life choices?" She snapped. "At least I don't make decisions that make me literally hate myself, then walk around with a self-imposed rain cloud over my head like fucking Eeyore." 

"Yeah? Well people aren't taking notes every time you open your mouth." 

Steven was no stranger to regret. So, he wasn't surprised when his gut twisted at the hurt look on Amethyst's face. Somehow, he knew he wouldn't apologise either. 

"I know that you've been through shit, and I know you have every right to feel bad." She swallowed. "But you could at least try to not let it make you an asshole. For me, and for the people who love you." 

She stood up, a silent force of fury as she barged past him and through the door, disappearing down the patio. 

"Yeah. Sure." Steven exhaled to his empty home. 

He spent the rest of the day with a sour taste in his mouth. 

Steven tried to sleep, but suddenly it was impossible. 

His words from not that long ago rang fresh in his mind, a haunting sound repeating itself over and over and over, driving him to the edge of insanity. Amethyst's expression of betrayal was unfamiliar; he wasn't used to seeing someone he'd always seen as a sister treat him like an enemy. Like something she had scraped from the bottom of her shoe; like a villain in a stranger's story. 

The feeling of his hands leaving the leather of his steering wheel was clear, as if it was no more than a few moments ago that he had been so close to death. A small part of him yearned to feel that again. He pushed it down. 

Not to mention... Connie. 

Oh, Connie. 

What could he do? It's not like he could talk to her, he barely knew who she was. Steven found himself staring at his ceiling, his eyes fixated on every spot, every crack, every detail as his mind ran wild. 

He didn't know quite how long he stared at the ceiling, the image of Connie's face clear as day in his mind. She was young in his dream, and he couldn't help but wonder what she looked like now. Hours passed, and the sun rose higher into the sky. 

Steven glanced through the glass in the balcony door, scowling as the shine of the midday sun blinded him. Groaning into the emptiness of his room, he harshly turned and pulled his cover over his face, ignoring how it made it more difficult to breathe. He stubbornly held it, silently hoping he'd fall asleep soon. 

All he needed was a few hours. A few hours to charge up his energy and sleep off his hangover before the night shift. 

He forgot what would happen once he drifted off. 

His eyes began to close, his breathing evening out and his limbs going limp, his mind going blank for just a moment. Sweet, blissful sleep. 

Until it wasn't. 

Brown eyes, not quite his own, snapped open. An aroma Steven didn't recognise drifted in from the kitchen, over to where Connie was sat at her kitchen table, lazily staring at her reflection on her glass cup. She looked older, wearing the sunken eyes of a sleep deprived teenager, but somehow looking more beautiful than Steven could ever had imagined. 

"I hope you're hungry!" A male voice called, every note reverterbrating with a jolly innocence. 

Connie's eyes brightened as her father walked in, holding a steaming pot of food, hands protected by red oven mitts. 

"I made ghobi!" He grinned, his voice raising with excitement as if it were a child's. "Your mother will be downstairs in a minute, she's just finishing up some paperwork from the hospital." 

She nodded, trying to ignore the growling in her stomach and a familiar growing feeling of anticipation. Connie loved it when her father cooked- a burden which usually fell upon her as both her parents worked throughout the day, and often, throughout the night too. 

Sitting up straighter in her seat, she licked her lips as a generous portion of cauliflower and tomato sauce was ladled onto her plate. It looked and smelled delicious, and she struggled to fight the smile off her face. 

"Oh, that smells nice." Priyanka spoke as she came down the stairs. Her parents exchanged a few affectionate words as Connie dug in, hungrily shoveling the veggies into her mouth. 

For what felt like an hour, the small family had dinner. It was nothing more than a normal dinner, filled with generic conversation between parents and daughter. They spoke about school, about work, about what they'd eat the next day. 

It was just... that. Nothing more, nothing less. No excitement. No tragedy. Just... normality. 

Somehow, Steven struggled to handle it. He wanted to stay; he wanted to be a part of that because it reminded him so much of when his father would come home with takeout, his mother would have just come home from a night out, and all three of them would sit down and just eat. That's all. 

Looking back, those were probably some of Steven's most treasured memories. His mother's gentle voice and his father's jovial laughter- both things he hadn't heard in a long, long time. 

Steven continued to observe the scene play out in front of him, somehow knowing that this memory had been recent. His emotions began to cloud what was happening, Connie's memory becoming more twisted before his eyes. Priyanka's face suddenly wore his mother's, features drenched in crimson blood, pupils becoming as void as the day she died. 

Connie glanced up and screamed- but instead of her voice, it was his own. 

"What's going on?!" He gasped, the room quickly going dark. Everything from the room instantly disappeared, Steven finding himself back in his own body, staring at the nothing all around him. There was no other way to describe it other than 'nothing'. 

It was a space devoid of matter, of light, of life- nothing but him was there. It was black, but not quite black- dark, but not quite dark. It was the colour that a blind man sees; it was the hue of a paint just off the colour wheel. It was infinite and terrifying. 

"Make it stop!" His throat tore as he screamed, clenching his eyes shut. 

Then, silence. The ringing in his ears stopped. His screaming stopped. 

When he opened them again, he was in his bedroom. Awake. Everything was... fine. 

Chest heaving, Steven shot up, eyes glancing at every corner of his now dark room. Reality now seemed surreal. His heart pounded so hard he felt it in his throat, his skin damp from his cold sweat. Still panting, he hurriedly fumbled to pull his shirt off his body, even the thin fabric feeling as though it was suffocating him. 

He needed air. 

Despite his shaking limbs, he quickly made his way over to his balcony, leaning heavily against the railing. His blood still felt ice cold as it coursed through him despite feeling impossibly warm, his heart thumping heavily as he struggled to breathe. 

His lungs felt too small- no matter how much he tried to inhale it was never enough. It felt like forever as he stood there, choking on nothing. He was at a loss at what to do; his mind was blank. Desperately, he tried to recall what his father had told him to do when he was having a panic attack. Unfortunately, he came up short. 

What could he do? His nightmare still rang fresh in his mind, stinging his brain like an open wound. His hands gripped the railing so hard he was sure he was giving himself splinters, his eyes squeezed shut in a weak attempt to calm down. 

It took over an hour for his breathing to return to normal. 

Steven sat at his kitchen table, head in his hands. He felt pathetic. 

What was he supposed to do? Even his soulmate dreams somehow went wrong. Connie was supposed to be his safe space- his silver lining in the colossal shit cloud that was his life. But it looked like not even someone as wonderful as Connie Maheswaran could save him from himself. Then, of course, he just had to wake up with the lung capacity of an asthmatic tortoise. 

Steven groaned loudly, the sound muffled by his hands. He glanced up, his eyes landing on the setting sun through his front window. 

Somehow... it didn't look as pretty. 

With a sigh of contempt, he stood, jogging up the stairs and getting into his work clothes. It wasn't like he had a uniform or anything- being a bouncer at a club didn't exactly require a lot of formality. He glanced around his room, a flash of pink catching his eye. 

His varsity jacket. 

Tucking it under his arm, he left and locked the door behind him, deciding to take one last stop before heading to work. 

Rose Quartz had a unique burial, choosing to be put in the ground in the cliff above her home, next to the lighthouse overlooking the ocean. It was a lovely sentiment, choosing to spend eternity where she had raised her son. However, Steven couldn't help but resent her decision- she was always so... close. It made it difficult to ignore. Difficult to move on. 

He sat beside the tombstone, obscured by the large black clouds tumbling through the sky, ignoring the now gentle sprinkle of delicate raindrops as they fell, dampening the grass around him. Before he knew it, he found his hands trembling, his eyes fixated on the clear absence of his left ring finger. 

Something frail and frangible found itself on his shoulder, causing him to jump in surprise. Steven's head whipped around, his gaze suddenly hardening as he recognised Pearl's gaunt and delicate features. He looked away. 

"I don't need you to baby me, Pearl. I'm twenty years old." 

Pearl sighed. 

"She wouldn't want you to be sad, Steven..." 

Steven's head snapped up, his nostrils flaring as an unexpected burst of irritation burst through him. What the hell did she know?! 

"Yeah?" He spat. "Well she probably wouldn't want to be dead either." 

Pearl visibly flinched, her hand retracting from his shoulder as if it burned her. Her fingers intertwined with each other, her thumbs twiddling together nervously. The silence between them was deafening, as if either was desperate to say something. Anything. 

But some things are better left unspoken.

Pearl turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Steven alone to wallow in his misery. Humiliation festered deep in his gut, his cheeks burning a furious red as tears irritated his eyes. He was unnecessarily harsh and he knew that. But sometimes Pearl's coddling got too much for his snappy temper to handle. 

"I'll apologise later." He said to himself, a silent promise that he would never fulfill. "I wish you could tell me what to do, Mom. You always knew what to do..." 

He placed his hand on the tombstone, his amputated finger brandished like a bad omen. 

Thunder crackled in the distance. He was late for work. 

He glanced down at his reflection as he stood, glaring with an undying hatred at the sight of his own face. Someone like him didn't deserve any pity. His shortcomings were his own, and he had to live with that... His frown deepened at the thought. He had to live... with that. 

Steven Universe walked away, not noticing the pink varsity jacket he left strewn beside the grave. 

Several weeks passed, the struggle of each day passing causing him to sink deeper into his own head. He had stopped visiting his mother, and his dreams of Connie became more and more frequent. He knew more about her than himself. 

Connie Maheswaran. He knew she picked at her nails when she was nervous. He knew she often watched anime to pass time (heh, weeb). He knew she was invested in her studies, spending a meticulously organised amount of time preparing for her final exams. He knew she often reread the same book over and over, becoming so attached to the characters and story she couldn't bear to let them go. 

It wasn't like he was in love with her. They were strangers after all, and that fact couldn't be denied, even if you argued that the pair were hand-picked by the mysterious forces of the universe as perfect compliments of each other. 

They were strangers. Nothing more. 

However, he found himself invested in her story. Connie's life was so... normal. Trivial. To others it might sound like something boring and monotonous, but Steven couldn't help but think about how lucky she was. Sure, it wasn't like her life was completely devoid of sadness -nobody's is- but at least it was comfortable. A content and uneventful existence. 

Steven thought it was beautiful. 

Which was why he refused to meet her. 

Everywhere he went, he brought some sort of suffering with him. Mostly caused by himself and his own poorly thought-out decisions. Connie was precious, and she was happy. He refused to ruin that. 

It was difficult, but Steven knew he was protecting her by keeping his distance. 

But, one night... something changed. Something that couldn't be ignored. Something that caused Steven to realise that, no matter how hard he tried, there was simply no point in trying to keep her safe from him. 

He needed to let go of Connie. He needed to let go. For good. 

Which is how he found himself on the top of the lighthouse. 

The events leading to this started out as any other; Steven returning home hungover, the sun barely grazing the horizon with its light. 

He walked in through his front door, noticing a figure sat on his couch as he flipped the light on. 

"I heard you quit your job." Garnet spoke as candidly as she always did, her accent emphasising her voice. 

"I have got to change my locks..." Muttered Steven, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yeah. I did." He exhaled. 

"Why?" 

"I have my reasons. It doesn't concern you." 

"You also gave away all your games to Amethyst. You gave Pearl your ukelele. You gave your dad your guitar and all your older clothes. You sold some of your most valued possessions." Garnet paused, an unexpected tremble in her throat. "I know what you're doing." 

"No." Steven swallowed. "You don't. You're overthinking things." 

"I'm worried about you, Steven. You are the most important thing to me in the world. I love you, and I feel like you're starting to forget that." 

Silence hung in the air for a moment. 

Then, a deep chuckle. Followed by a laugh. Steven keeled over, his laughter shattering the silence. 

"Of course I know that, Garnet!" He giggled. "And I know I don't say it as much as I should, but... I love you too. I was giving away my things because I'm thinking of moving away. I wanted it to be a surprise, but... ha, I guess you caught me!" 

Breathing a sigh of relief, Garnet's lips curved into a gentle smile. 

"I'm glad." She whispered. "I'll come over tomorrow to talk about you moving. And... don't worry, I won't tell Pearl or Amethyst." 

Steven offered a polite smile as Garnet stood and pressed a kiss to his forehead before making her way out. His closed-mouth smile didn't leave his face even after she left. He stood there immobilised, his limbs completely frozen. 

He stood in his living room, engulfed in silence as his bottom lip began to quiver, no longer being able to hold back his tears. One after another, they cascaded down his reddening cheeks, dripping off his chin and onto the floor. Small, pitiful whimpers escaped him, snivelling and whining like a dying pup. 

He didn't want to cry. He didn't like crying. But recently it seemed like all he knew how to do. 

Steven went to bed that night feeling conflicted. His process of getting his affairs in order had already begun, it's not like he could back out now. But... he couldn't help but think of Garnet. The sigh of relief that escaped her from his half-assed excuse, as if she was willing to believe anything that didn't imply what she had initially suspected. 

She had been right, of course. Steven wasn't going to move away. He wasn't chasing adventure, or self-discovery. 

He searched for peace. 

And if he could only find it in death, then so be it. 

But then... what would his family do? They had already lost Rose. It was clear they loved him, despite him thinking they'd be better off without him. Surely they'd move on... right? He thought back to when his mother died- how Garnet looked on stoically, always hiding her inner turmoil. How Amethyst became sarcastic and bitter. How Pearl had completely lost any trace of light in her eyes. How his father became withdrawn and absent, a shell of the man he once was. 

One thing was for sure... if he was gone, Connie would be safe. She could live a comfortable life with a man that made her happy- even if it wasn't her soulmate. The universe could always be wrong about soulmates; nothing was guaranteed. 

Right? 

Steven curled up tighter in his bed, cocooning himself in his comforter. 

Maybe... maybe one chance wouldn't be so bad. He could see her just once- not even say who he was. Just to figure out what he wanted to do. Just to figure out if maybe... just maybe, he and Connie could be happy together. 

It was a nice thought. Something that... despite everything, Steven couldn't help but put a little faith in. 

With a small smile on his face, he drifted off to sleep. 

Until he began to dream. 

His eyes snapped open, looking through Connie's eyes as she leapt from her bed, fumbling through the hall and into the bathroom. She collapsed onto the floor, dry heaving into the bowl as sobs shook her. Tears formed in her eyes, but never once fell. 

Steven couldn't understand- what was happening?! Was she sick? Was she okay?! 

"Connie? Oh goodness, what happened- are you okay?!"

Priyanka rushed over to her daughter, her expression panicked. She placed a comforting hand on Connie's shoulder, her other hand caressing her hair. 

Connie hiccuped as she turned her head, throwing her arms around her mother and squeezing as tightly as she could. 

"Connie... what's wrong?" Priyanka asked quietly. 

"Mom... before you met Dad, did you ever see any of his memories?" 

"Of course I did. We're soulmates." 

"Were any of them..." Connie paused. "The most horrifying thing you've ever seen?" 

Steven did a double-take, praying feverishly in his mind that she didn't see what he suspected. She couldn't have. It wouldn't be fair. This couldn't happen. 

"You're seeing your soulmate's dreams already?" Priyanka whispered. Connie nodded. 

Then, the words that made Steven's blood run cold. The words that made uncertainty turn to certainty. All said in Connie's gentle, musical voice. 

"His name is Steven. I just watched his mother die." 

Steven started awake only moments later, not wanting to see the rest. Slowly, he sat up in his bed, his alarm clock displaying 3:41am in bold red letters. He breathed in slowly, letting his lungs fill with air before he exhaled through his mouth. 

"Huh. So that's it then." He said to the dark, empty room. 

In all fairness, he didn't know what else to do now. Everything seemed... nullified. As if nothing he did was of any importance. After all, he'd just made the most important decision of his life. It only took a split second to decide. And he was okay with that. 

He stood up, pulling on his black star-emblazoned shirt and a pair of jeans. He made his bed. He turned off his lamp. He glanced around his almost empty bedroom, brown eyes scanning every corner, every aspect, every splinter in the wood. 

This was okay. 

With a heavy groan, Steven reached his arms up and stretched his back out before letting them flop back down again at his sides. 

Yeah. This was okay. 

He walked down the stairs, listening to the echo of his footsteps. He walked outside. He didn't lock his door. 

Steven Universe walked outside. Everything else was irrelevant. Any thought of his friends, his family, of HER, was suddenly nullified, his mind surprisingly black. 

There was only one destination in mind. 

The trek up the seemingly infinite staircase of the interior of the lighthouse didn't take nearly as long as he thought it would. Each step was dark in colour, he couldn't help but notice, as if his steps darkened the path beneath him. 

Yellow brick road turned black. 

The climb didn't take long at all. In fact, by the time he reached the top, the sun had only just begun to rise. He watched, transfixed, as it rose impossibly slow, every second passing seeming to last a lifetime. 

When Steven Universe imagined what this moment would be like, he imagined great inner turmoil- a battle raging inside. He imagined this would be a moment of great emotion, filled with the sound of his heart hammering in his ears and his head full of sorrow at the life that would be lost. 

But he was wrong. Overthinking may have brought him here, but in the moment, his mind was completely blank. 

Steven's eyes stayed fixed on the sunrise. 

Gentle waves lapped the shore, fishing boats strung across the horizon like bunting. 

Unwaveringly, he climbed over the safety railing, the heels of his feet on the ledge the only thing keeping him from falling. This was the liminal space between life and death. He never imagined it would be so nice to look at. 

Steven breathed in, feeling the oxygen filling his lungs and enriching his blood. He held it for a moment, letting his eyes fall shut. Then, he breathed out.

His grip loosened. 

Then, a bang, and a cry. 

"STOP!" 

Steven gasped, his eyes snapping open and his head whipping around. 

His breath suddenly caught at the sight before him. Dark skin, brown eyes, flowing hair. 

"..."

"..."

"Connie?"

**Author's Note:**

> as of you who have read the lighthouse I AM SO SORRY LMFAO 
> 
> thanks to everyone for reading and for enjoying both parts of this series! this is unfortunately the final one, but i hope it was up to everyone's taste. leave a review my slimes.


End file.
